How others will see it. This is not a feel-good movie. It's a pokey-paced character story. There's a bit of romance, but its not sufficiently deep to provoke interest from fans of the genre. There's brief comedy involving a drunken sunburned couple and a tall-tale involving Silent Cal, but again, not enough for the film to run on the Comedy Channel. We have a dose of nostalgia, but too long ago to register even with the geriatrics.
What we do have is well-intentioned thoughtfulness. This appeals to a decidedly narrow band of film enthusiasts. A River Runs Through It got good press, some award activity, and might even have made some money. But Quiz Show it ain't, and it sure isn't as good as Ordinary People. Perhaps Redford should stick with two-word titles. A low blow, perhaps, but a hint that something must happen onscreen besides Pitt landing a big trout.
How I felt about it. Let's make nice for a paragraph or two. After all, it's much better than most movies, a category that includes a majority of box office blockbusters. A River Runs Through It has lovely cinematography, a conscientious script, deliberate pacing, and source material that doesn't invoke the sensational or the salacious.
I did promise to be nice for a second paragraph. Did I mention that Ordinary People is an outstanding movie? Quiz Show is excellent as well. These are, of course, previous Redford projects. And I did already mention them. Onto the negative. The hammer rises, and it's about to fall.
"Splendor in the Grass." We've already had a nifty 1961 movie titled after this poem. We are to believe that Skerritt and Sheffer have not only independently memorized this wordy verse, but are eager to recite it to each other, excited by its great eloquence.
Never mind that the conventional lives of Sheffer and Skerritt are opposite that of the message of the poem, which is to acquire moments to cherish forever afterward. Instead, the two are both driven by character, hard work, society contributions, and family involvement. I'll take a well-paying job over splendor in the grass, which I suspect is fancy talk for a roll in the hay.
Since I'm running out of space on my notebook page, I pass quickly over the Great Oatmeal Plot Episode, where low-key fatherly discipline teaches a lesson to a fickle and determined child. The lesson? Eat your oatmeal. The Lord provideth it. Yawn.